Sabotage
by LaSemeuse
Summary: The crew works to uncover the source of destructive and mysterious particles in the warp core. PC storyline. Story now complete!
1. Sabotage One

Author note: My first attempt at fanfic here, so reviews appreciated. Not focused so much on plot as getting the feel of the characters and the process.  
  
Disclaimer: It's my understanding that there needs to be some sort of perfunctory acknowledgement that, like Q, Paramount is omnipotent, and I would never do anything to break the rules. So this is for fun and obsessed fans only.  
  
Sabotage Chapter One  
  
****************  
  
"Jean-Luc, I don't like the look of those clouds. They're ominous."  
  
"Ominous, Doctor?"  
  
"Yes, ominous - as in threatening, gloomy, forboding."  
  
Picard grinned and gently lead his chestnut steed closer to Crusher's dark Arabian, "thank you, Doctor, I understand your meaning. I think that perhaps you have been spending too much time with Commander Data. I agree with your assessment. Let's turn back and rendezvous with Will and Deanna."  
  
Barring the clouds, the landscape and sky remained peaceful and quite breathtaking. This ride was the last activity of the day for the two, as the crew of the Enterprise-D prepared to wrap-up its long-awaited and much deserved shore leave. The ship was being fitted with a modified warp-drive on the orbiting Starbase 202, and had been in dock for over two weeks. The newest base of its kind, the Federation had designed it with an extensive and fully functional space dock. Since the devastating encounters with the Borg and the increasing tensions with Cardassians, it had built three of these bases in various distant and strategic parts of the quadrant.  
  
These dry and strategic thoughts were the furthest from Jean-Luc Picard's mind, as he crested a gentle slope that displayed a stunning view of the valley below. A warm breeze shuffled past, barely swaying the tops of delicate purple flowers that covered the expansive, and mostly green meadow. Behind him, towers of charcoal clouds towered above. In front, an azure, cloudless sky promised nothing but tranquility.  
  
Much of his leave, and the senior staff's, had been spent on the ship, completing reports, crew evaluations, and general housekeeping. However, they had occasionally been able to attend to maintenance of a more personal nature. Picard's thoughts were as ominous as the dark clouds as he contemplated ending his leave and returning to the ship.  
  
Dr. Beverly Crusher's ruminations were similarly glum as she trotted up behind Picard. Her horse, "Lightening," whuffed contentedly as he bent to graze. "This guy's not at all the handful they eluded to at the stables. He's been a perfect gentleman."  
  
"Indeed, Doctor. If only all your companions were so obliging." Again, Picard grinned, and Beverly returned the smile. They set off together back toward the Inn that the staff had unofficially christened their home away from home as the Enterprise underwent remodeling. As they rambled on, the sky slowly turned from blue to grey.  
  
Suddenly, a distant but alarming crack of thunder pealed through the quiet afternoon, accompanied by a bright flash. Picard's mount whinnied loudly and began skittishly dancing through the meadow. With some effort, he managed to calm the horse to his satisfaction, before glancing around to see how Beverly had fared.  
  
Apparently, not well. "Lightening" was now living up to his namesake. Judging by the distance now between him and the fiery streak of red mane racing through the valley, the horse had bolted immediately upon hearing the loud roll of thunder. Picard quickly spurred his own horse on in pursuit.  
  
Upon reaching the creek that separated the meadow from the sparse forest that surrounded the grounds of the Inn, Lightening abruptly stopped, reared, and began bucking and side-stepping along the bank. Now closing the gap, Picard was able to see Crusher doing her best to stay mounted, while shouting colorfully at the horse to settle the hell down.  
  
Lightening reared once more, gave a mighty buck that send Beverly flying, and came to a fitfull standstill. Picard finally came upon the animal, gathered the reigns, and ensuring that its antics were done, quickly dismounted.  
  
"Beverly!" Picard searched the nearby landscape to no avail, his concern growing as he heard no immediate response.  
  
"Jean-Luc, I think that I have severely fractured my pride," Beverly called out from the banks of the stream. Picard ran toward the sound of her voice, only to find her lying, covered in mud and groaning, a short distance from the bubbling water.  
  
Smiling broadly, he surveyed the prone Doctor. "Is that all the damage then?" In a more serious tone he added, "are you quite all right Beverly? We can beam up to the starbase immediately." With that, he bent and offered his hand in assistance.  
  
"No, I think I'm fine. I've consulted my vast knowledge of medicine and, finding all extremities working and no head trauma, have concluded that the worst damage was indeed suffered by my pride."  
  
"Well then, knowing you, the recovery should be remarkably swift."  
  
Outwardly unamused, Beverly gathered a large handful of mud and swiftly chucked it at Picard. A deadly aim, it splattered high on his chest, collaterally covering his face.  
  
"For that, Doctor, I leave you of your own accord to extract yourself from the mire." Turning on his heal, Picard made his way back to the horses, and left Beverly struggling up the slippery slope, occasionally falling, and finally cresting it covered head to toe in muck.  
  
"Let's get back to the Inn," she remarked darkly. Her grimy clothes, skin, and hair did little to dull the glimmer in her eyes.  
  
Mud or no, she was happy to not only be off the ship, but to be spending the afternoon with Picard. Since their latest adventure with Q, and Picard's possible debilitating diagnosis, she had been content with each moment they'd been able to steal away together. Their friendship had continued to grow, becoming both deeper and more affectionate. No dramatic declarations had followed, or protestations of love. To the contrary, small and daily expressions of affection had steadily increased. Still unaware of their married and divorced future (Picard was unwilling to divulge any personal details of his future experiences to the crew), Beverly was unsure what these developments might portend, but found that she happily looked forward to finding out. Incidental and awkward sexual tension had been replaced by a continuously strong and undeniable undercurrent, but neither of the two seemed to care, or to let it distract them from the platonic bond that grew ever stronger.  
  
Apprehensively, Crusher approached her wayward steed. It was still a substantial ride to the Inn, and the clouds that had produced the first clap of thunder rolled closer. More grumblings had been issued forth from the sky, but both horses now seemed to have come to an uneasy peace with the disquiet. Picard had already settled back into the saddle. Trying to remount Lightening while covered in mud proved to be quite a challenge. Crusher was able to finally able to succeed, without any of her usual grace. Picard chuckled quietly to himself, unwilling to risk any further wrath. The two trotted briskly back to the Inn, and the end or their leave.  
  
As he rode, Picard contemplated Beverly's wild ride. She'd handled the unexpectedly violent turn of events well - skillfully alternating between racehorse jockey and bronk-busting cowboy at the horse's whim. Not until several meters and several bucks had she finally been thrown clear, and landed unharmed. Apparently, her skills for mastering the equine of the species rivaled those for taming the human as well. Though he would not admit it, she had made significant progress in curtailing his own errant wanderings of the heart.  
  
*********  
  
"Commander T'shar. We have completed the procedure. The organic nanites have successfully been integrated with the new warp drive of the Enterprise. We are returning to the ship."  
  
"Very well B'nar. Make no further efforts at communication. Proceed now as planned."  
  
*********  
  
"Picard to LaForge. What is the status of the new core?"  
  
"Captain, all initial tests have been completed, and the engine is online. Starbase engineers performed levels 1-4 diagnostics. Data reviewed their findings, and I believe we can be on our way - as soon as you give the order. However, I'll be personally conducting further tests as we proceed."  
  
"Very good Mr. LaForge - we will break orbit within the hour. Picard out."  
  
*********  
  
Beverly reviewed the new crew roster and rotation in sickbay. Thankfully, Nurse Ogawa *'Powell'* Crusher continually reminded herself, was still on board but on limited duty while she finished her maternity leave. More importantly, Dr. Selar had been transferred from the Enterprise during leave to take a CMO position aboard the USS Cuyahoga, a position Beverly believed she had more than earned. However, that meant integrating a new primary medical officer into the staff.  
  
Reviewing Emma Dumonde's service record, Beverly found she might enjoy working with the woman. Her merits were numerous and distinguished. While her personal file was somewhat abbreviated, her professional file was extensive and commendable. And, judging by her most recent holo-profiles, she guessed that she might be keeping Will Riker busy calculating his prospects.  
  
*********  
  
A week into the rotation, Crusher's musings had done a 180. She distinctly disliked Emma Dumonde, and had been horrified to discover that Jean-Luc, and not Will, seemed to have taken a particular interest in the "charming" new physician. Command was not without its benefits however, and Dumonde had swiftly found herself anchoring the nightshift in sickbay. Beverly had noted that it would be a temporary assignment until Dumonde had "settled in," but then spent several occasions pondering how she might make it a permanent one.  
  
While their initial meeting had been cordial, but rather cool, it was not until Dumonde made an overt attempt to interact intimately with the Captain that Beverly had taken action. Beverly had strolled out of her office one day to discover Dumonde pacing the Captain through a physical evaluation. The two had been chatting amiably as Crusher approached.  
  
"Jean-Luc," Crusher purred. "Your quarterly physical is not scheduled with me until next week. Are you feeling well?" Crusher gently laid a hand on his shoulder, and arched an eyebrow at Dumonde. "Certainly you didn't mention this at breakfast this morning," she added, now pointedly fixing her gaze on Dumonde. She bristled as Emma leaned closer into Picard to complete her cranial scan. The new Doctor had a compelling and attractive air about her, and only the faintest of an undefinable accent. High-set cheekbones, a delicate nose, and trim mouth composed her creamy skin and patrician features, framed by long and glowing wavy brown hair. Her eyes were an intense green, simultaneously dark and shimmering. Beverly found herself with an unexplainable sense of propriety over Jean-Luc's medical ministrations.  
  
"Oh no troubles Beverly. I simply ran into Lieutenant Dumonde in the lift this morning, and I asked how she might be getting along. She explained that while all was well, she had not had a chance to treat many patients yet. I mentioned my scheduled physical, and she suggested I might move it up and give her something to do."  
  
Dumonde shrugged at Crusher and smiled devilishly.  
  
"Did she. How helpful. Well, I will have to make sure that Lieutenant Dumonde's skills are better challenged. I know we can find something to keep her busy." Crusher finished the statement with an even more pointed gaze and suggestive tone. There were some extremely delicate and tedious micro-tests she'd been running on an *aromatic* plant species that might find their way into Dumonde's responsibilities.  
  
"Lieutenant, I will expect to see the results of your scans on my desk when you've finished. I make a point of evaluating the senior staff's medical testing and scans personally."  
  
"Yes, Doctor," Dumonde smiled serenely, and Crusher exited with what she hoped was an indignant air.  
  
After that, the women's relationship had declined precipitously. Dumonde's relationship with the Captain, however, had not. Unexpected "lift" meetings had led to fortuitous 10-Forward meetings that seemed to end in chats over coffee. Beverly's level of anxiety over the budding relationship (she was convinced that was where Dumonde was headed), also increased.  
  
*********  
  
"Your report Mr. LaForge?" The Captain turned to his Chief Engineer with an inquisitive stare. All staff reports had been completed, and knowing the troubles with the warp core, Picard had left that for last. The Enterprise had been making their way at warp 5 toward Hepa III, an unpopulated and unexplored planet near the Cardassian neutral zone.  
  
"I'm sorry sir, but the engine is still not running to spec. The output is still not synchronizing with the energy readings. The engine is working harder, but putting out less energy."  
  
"Do you anticipate the situation worsening, Mr. LaForge?"  
  
"Unclear Captain. Without pinpointing the cause, it's impossible to say what might happen next. However, the problem has slowly been building since we left starbase." Geordi let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples. His department had been working double shifts trying to figure out what was causing the warp core problem.  
  
"Troubling." The Captain leaned over the tabletop of the observation lounge, steepled his hands, and studied the glassy suface. "Mr. LaForge, keep me apprised of the situation. Notify me immediately if it necessitates a drop from warp. I do not like the prospect of trolling the neutral zone in a ship that is not operating well."  
  
"Aye Captain. Data and I will be in main engineering working on a diagnostic."  
  
"Very well. Dismissed."  
  
The morning meeting broke, officers headed toward their respective posts. Before Crusher left the conference room, Picard called her name.  
  
"Yes Captain?"  
  
"I'm sorry you missed breakfast this morning, Doctor. I had something I'd been meaning to ask you."  
  
"Oh?" Crusher smiled demurely. They had been busy in sickbay of late, coordinating with exobotany designing studies for the vegetation of Hepa III. She had missed many of their usual casual engagements lately, and was glad to have the chance to chat.  
  
Picard cleared his throat uneasily and continued. "Yes, well. Far be it from me to tell you how to run your sickbay."  
  
"Far indeed, Jean-Luc - you know better than that," Crusher rejoined with a wicked smirk.  
  
Picard anxiously tugged at his uniform, ".however, I'm wondering why you still have Lieutenant Dumonde on the nightshift. She seems to have come up to speed with the workings of the department."  
  
Crusher's expression darkened ominously. "Crew assignments in sickbay are strictly under my discretion, Captain. Dumonde will be rotated into day shift when I feel it appropriate. I'm sorry - is the way I run my department cutting into your social life?" A high blush had filled her face, and her blue eyes flashed.  
  
Picard recognized the coming storm and immediately regretted his approach of the subject. "Not at all Doctor, not at all. Emma had simply remarked, and I was curious. Your personnel matters are your business. But knowing your skill at management, I was simply wondering why you would relegate a primary physician to a secondary shift." He tried to placate Crusher with kind words and a small smile.  
  
Not at all appeased by his offering, Crusher's eyes continued to dance angrily.  
  
Time to pull out all the stops. "As well, Doctor, I notice that without a ranking physician on shift, your time is stretched thinner. I haven't seen you for breakfast in days."  
  
Her countenance relaxed somewhat, and Picard saw her body lose some of its tension. "Well, Captain, I will speak to *Emma* about her rotation. And I'm sorry for missing our morning appointments." With that, she smiled primly and breezed archly out of the lounge.  
  
"Women." Picard stood abruptly and tugged again at the hem of his uniform top.  
  
*********  
  
"That MAN!" Crusher stormed into her office and threw her lab coat at her couch. It was not that he had the audacity to ask her about a personnel decision in her own department, nor that it was even on behalf of the dashing Emma Dumonde. No, what really pissed her off was that he then had the nerve to play it off as though he was instead concerned that he was 'not able to see her.' "Duplicitous, manipulative, conniving." She stalked the floor like an agitated lion.  
  
"Been spending time with Data, Dr. Crusher?"  
  
Alyssa Powell tentatively approached her door, PADD in hand. "I've got the preliminary reports for the chemistry tests for the vegetation of Hepa III."  
  
"I'm sorry Alyssa." Crusher smiled sheepishly. "Thanks for your work on this. I still don't understand why the Federation has left this planet undeveloped for so long. It's M class, and all scans have been very promising."  
  
"Well, these tests are similarly positive. If you have any questions, I'm scheduled to be in our quarters until 1200 hours - but you can reach me on the comm."  
  
"Thanks Alyssa." Crusher watched the petite woman retreat to the corridor. Momentarily, Emma Dumonde came in to the reception. She stood at attention at the door of Beverly's office.  
  
"Dr. Crusher."  
  
"Lieutenant."  
  
The women regarded each other warily. Crusher rose from her chair, unconsciously matching Dumonde's stature and subtly raising herself to full height. She stood in front of her desk, shoulder's squared with the lieutenant.  
  
"I know that I've only been on the Enterprise a brief time, Dr. Crusher. But I am well-qualified to be here. I'm wondering why I've been relegated to the slowest shifts?"  
  
Beverly was not in the mood for this. "I'm not sure what your experience was on other ships, Lieutenant, but on the Enterprise, I run the sickbay my way. Which has always resulted in optimal performance, and often commended results. In fact, my models and rotations have been replicated on several starships, and are often taught at Starfleet Medical. So I feel very little compunction to explain my reasons to you."  
  
Dumonde immediately recognized the folly of her approach and changed tactics, relaxing her body language and tone. This one wasn't about to be intimidated into changing her mind. "Beverly, I feel that we've gotten off to a bad start. I'm unable to say what might have caused it, but I'm sure that we can clear it up."  
  
Crusher's body language only stiffened, and for the second time that day her eyes took on a menacing and steely quality. "You will remember to address your superior officers with respect and the proper salutation, Lieutenant. If you wish to ever 'clear things up' with me, you will remember that." Crusher's look might have melted glass as she took a small step toward the other woman. "You are dismissed."  
  
"Aye sir." Dumonde shot a brash look back at Crusher before turning on her heel and marching out of the office.  
  
*********  
  
The meeting with Crusher had not gone as she had anticipated. She'd heard the woman had a fiery temper, but had not anticipated the reaction she'd received. Emma knew, however, what had provoked the CMO, and wasn't unclear for a minute as to what caused the initial animosity between the two. The explanation, simply enough, was Jean-Luc Picard. And that was just fine with her. The hotter Crusher got, the closer Dumonde knew she'd gotten to the Captain. Suddenly, her steps lightened, and she changed course toward the captain's ready room. A quick lunch with the captain would change her mood altogether, she decided.  
  
*********  
  
The next morning, Beverly exhaled loudly as she stretched her arms out toward her left, then right ankles. She and Deanna sat on the floor of exercise room C cooling down after their Bai-Hou routine. They had recently tried integrating the technique with their morning workouts, and Beverly found that the strenuous cardio-activity had been perfectly suited to taking her mind off of more troubling issues. That is, until she had sat down to cool off her tense muscles.  
  
"Beverly." Troi leveled a knowing glance at the Doctor. "We can do all the yoga and Bai-Hou you want, every morning. And you're still going to be tied in knots if you won't tell me what's going on in that pretty red head of yours." Troi smiled.  
  
Crusher frowned. "I know Deanna. I would love to confide, if I could sort things out enough to articulate what's flying around in that red head up there! I know it has to do with Emma Dumonde and Captain Picard. I know that I instinctively don't like the woman, but I don't know if it's her, or if it's how well acquainted she seems to have become with Jean-Luc in such a short period of time."  
  
"Mmmm hmmm." Deanna knew better than to interrupt Beverly's stream of consciousness, so she sat quietly, stretching forward and staring intently at the mat.  
  
"She's an excellent physician - well qualified to replace Dr. Selar. I just can't believe that I would let my personal feelings interfere with my crew evaluation and assignments. It's unprofessional and unacceptable."  
  
"But.." Troi could sense the hesitation from Beverly and urged her to complete the thought.  
  
"But I'm unable to overcome my misgivings." Crusher loudly exhaled again.  
  
"Beverly, your relationship with the Captain is, to say the least, complicated. I can sense a bit of jealousy from you regarding Emma, but it's not an unhealthy reaction. I've known you for years, and I know that your top priority is sickbay, and the health of the crew. I've seen some jealousy from you *and* the Captain at various times, and it has never interfered with your duties or professional decisions. My advice to you," Troi rose and Beverly followed as they walked out of the room, "is to continue to be honest with yourself about your feelings. And come to me if you find they continue to trouble you."  
  
"Thank you, Deanna." Beverly grabbed the Counsellor's hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "One day, I will sort this all out with the Captain, and you will be free to ply your trade on new and unwitting victims."  
  
"I'm only here to help." The women giggled and Deanna playfully slapped at Beverly's shoulder.  
  
*********  
  
"LaForge to Captain Picard."  
  
"Picard here." The Captain rose sleepily from his bed and, sliding on his robe, strode toward the replicator and ordered a strong and hot cup of coffee. He had been up late the night before, chatting with Lieutenant Dumonde as she attempted to fill her slow evening hours in sickbay. He had found her to be exceedingly pleasant, and was at a loss to explain why Dr. Crusher found her so unpalatable.  
  
"Captain, Data and I have been unable to diagnose the problem with the engines. The energy readings are getting worse. We're going to have to drop out of warp, sir." Tension and exhaustion were evident in Geordi's voice.  
  
"Very well Mr. LaForge. I'll expect a full briefing at the staff meeting this morning."  
  
"Aye Captain."  
  
The comm. went quiet, and Picard set down his coffee and made his way back to the dark bedroom. Dropping his robe, he walked into the shower. Minutes later, he appeared in his living room to find Beverly Crusher reclining at the table and buttering a croissant.  
  
"I let myself in - I hope you don't mind." Crusher was done with the game she and Jean-Luc had been playing since Dumonde's arrival on the ship, and had decided to take action. If the woman wanted to make a play, Beverly was going to ensure that it would have to be a good one. Making Jean-Luc mad at her would get her nowhere. Flustering him, on the other hand, would keep him off-guard and susceptible to her whim. That in mind, she had come to breakfast straight away from her Bai-Hou routine. Still flushed and glowing from the exercise, her auburn hair was loosely tied back, with stray waves tucked casually behind her ears. The effect, she knew, gave the impression that she had just rolled out of bed after a pleasantly active morning.  
  
"Er, no, I don't mind at all Doctor." Picard smiled awkwardly, and paused mid-stride. He looked rather like an uncertain teenager as he stood in the middle of the room. She smiled as her ruse produced the desired effect.  
  
'Men can be so predictable,' Crusher thought to herself. 'Frustrating, but predictable.' "Please Jean-Luc, sit down." She motioned to the chair opposite hers where he always sat. "Is there something wrong?" Beverly smiled coyly, a mocking concern glinting in her eyes.  
  
"No, Doctor. Just, um, contemplating the report I received from Geordi this morning." Picard attempted to steer the conversation to safer ground.  
  
Crusher had none of it. She set down her coffee, stood, and stretched. Her top came up over her navel, exposing a toned and creamy abdomen. She let out a long breath, picked up her cup, and walked by Picard, gliding her hand over his shoulder on the way. She arrived at the replicator and requested a refill. The fresh coffee appeared, black and steaming.  
  
"I hope he and Data were able to clear up the problem with the engines."  
  
"Quite the contrary - they're stumped. I'm sure you've noticed that we've dropped out of warp."  
  
"I did. What is our revised ETA for Hepa III?" Crusher and her crew had worked overtime to get their studies ready, and now it appeared that the haste had been unnecessary. Disappointment was hard to hide.  
  
"Two days at full impulse." Picard himself was annoyed with the delay, and tugged tersely at his uniform.  
  
Beverly stood again. "Well, I'm sure we'll be able to fill the time." Her voice was low and her eyes merry. She strolled over to Picard, placed her hand on his shoulder, a chaste kiss on his cheek, and smiled. "See you at 0800," she commented airily as she ambled out of his quarters.  
  
Nonplussed, Picard shook his head as he rose to clear the table. Women could be such a mystery.  
  
*********  
  
The morning staff briefing was again uneventful, at least until the engineering report.  
  
"Nothing we've tried seems to work Captain!" LaForge's voice peaked in frustration as he concluded the report. "The energy output synchronization is now way off. I'm afraid that if we engage warp again, we'll overheat the core. But even at impulse, the temperature in the core is still rising, though by extremely small amounts."  
  
"Mr LaForge, this is more than troubling." Picard paused, frowned, and swiveled slightly in his chair. "Mr. Data, please send a message to Starfleet relaying our situation, and alerting them that we will be returning to starbase 202 immediately after completing our assignment at Hepa III. In the meantime, I want a system-wide diagnostic of the entire ship. Let's track this mystery down, Geordi." Picard nodded at the engineer, glanced around the table, and stood. "Dismissed."  
  
*********  
  
After her shift ended, Emma Dumonde stalked into her quarters and made her way to the replicator. Ordering a glass of water, she drank it quickly, washing down two small, blue pills. Crusher had certainly found a way to keep her busy on nightshift. The plants Dumonde had been assigned to test smelled horribly, though she'd actually built up a tolerance. But the experiments were beyond tedious. The reaction times were slower than Bataxian Oxen. Her headache subsided as she retreated to the bedroom. She lay down to grab a couple hours of sleep before her lunch with Picard. The thought brought a small smile to her face.  
  
********* 


	2. Sabotage Two

Author note: My first attempt at fanfic here, so reviews appreciated. Not focused so much on plot as getting the feel of the characters and the process.  
  
Disclaimer: It's my understanding that there needs to be some sort of perfunctory acknowledgement that, like Q, Paramount is omnipotent, and I would never do anything to break the rules. So this is for fun and obsessed fans only.  
  
Sabotage Chapter Two  
  
*********  
  
"Surely, Captain, some woman has captured your heart."  
  
Picard eyed Dumonde suspiciously, her features alight with mischief. "If so, Lieutenant, that information remains classified," he commented. She had boldly invited him to lunch in 10-forward yesterday, and he had been looking forward to the "date." Emma was a delightful conversationalist, open in her expressions, and had made no illusions about her intentions toward the Captain. She had pursued him unabashedly, and he had to admit the advances were flattering, and not unwelcome.  
  
"In that case, captain, I will operate with no assumptions regarding your availability - except one - that you are." Dumonde smiled suggestively and leaned forward. "Given that particular set of data, my prognosis is positive, and my course of action will be aggressive." Her smile broadened. "And I don't feel that 10-Forward will be appropriate for our next rendezvous."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"No. My, um, schedule, is somewhat restrictive. But I have a reprieve tomorrow. We're arriving at Hepa III, and Dr. Crusher will be planetside, so I'll be covering the day shift. I would be delighted if you would join me for dinner. My quarters."  
  
"Well, Emma, I'd better take advantage. Given your schedule, the opportunity may not arise again soon."  
  
"Please Captain, I'd be delighted if you took advantage." She leaned in and brushed his hand, as Crusher and Riker came through the door, stopping by for a late lunch. Dumonde's intimate touch was not lost on Beverly.  
  
"Will, grab a table, will you? I'll be right over."  
  
Riker smiled wickedly, and settled at a nearby table, in plain view of the Captain and his lunch companion. Knowing Beverly, he'd picked a prime location for what promised to be quite a floor show.  
  
Beverly arrived at the table, and placed her arm on Picard's shoulder. "Hello, Jean-Luc, Lieutenant." Her tone was breezy, confident, and dismissive.  
  
Dumonde, looking a bit like the cat who swallowed the canary, stood. "I was just heading out, Doctor."  
  
"Not on my account, I hope."  
  
"Oh no - we're done with lunch. I was just wrapping up our dinner plans for my quarters tomorrow night."  
  
Riker's smile stretched from ear to ear, and he stroked his beard as the play unfolded. Crusher had lobbed a softball, and Dumonde had hit it out of the park. The Doctor was never one to be outdone, however, and he waited with baited breath for the next move from Beverly.  
  
"Dinner - how charming. Well, it's nice to see that you and the Captain have found time in your busy schedules to get better acquainted." Crusher smiled sweetly at the other woman and patted Picard's shoulder like an old buddy.  
  
Riker's smile turned to an expression of shock as his jaw hit the floor. This was not the show he expected. Neither had Dumonde. Thoroughly off- balance, the Lieutenant stammered goodbyes and headed for the door. A stunning turn of play. Beverly proved a brilliant physician and, when her cool prevailed, a brilliant tactician. Now, she encircled Picard's shoulders, bent down, and whispered into his ear, a puckish expression touching her lips.  
  
Picard had been immediately uncomfortable when he realized Beverly and Will had entered 10-Forward. He had been caught in the act, though he was unsure as to why he should feel guilty. As Crusher drifted over to the table, a light perspiration had broken out down his back. As the women had squared off, he felt blood rush to the tips of his ears. He too, had been prepared for a storm from the volatile Doctor. His confusion had been as apparent as Will's when Crusher failed to deliver a tirade, but instead appeared unruffled. His consternation grew as Beverly bent down, and, centimeters away from his temple, whispered in his ear. The effect was far from chilling as her soft hair tickled his neck as she spoke.  
  
"Jean-Luc, you seem to be getting the best of both worlds, hmmm?" Beverly's lips stopped a hair's breadth from his skin, and he could feel her breath as she whispered. After a brief pause that seemed like an eternity to Picard, she continued. "Just remember, your breakfasts are taken. And I don't like surprises in the morning." Beverly stood slowly, and let her fingers gingerly trail on Picard's shoulder as she walked purposefully back toward Riker. Picard's face turned scarlet, and he quickly exited the room. He did not enjoy being publicly bested by two women on his own ship.  
  
"That, Doctor, left me speechless," snickered Riker as Beverly loftily took her place at the table.  
  
"Jean-Luc as well, it seems," she remarked with a glance toward the door.  
  
*********  
  
"Data, I just don't understand what's going on!" Geordi tapped his PADD fiercely and tossed it onto the console.  
  
The Enterprise had reached Hepa III, and Geordi had immediately taken the entire warp core off-line. Still, the temperature had continued to rise, incrementally. Not only that, but the interfaces at stations all over the ship had also been found to be warm to the touch. Mechanically, the cause and effects were completely unexplainable. To make matters worse, the performance of auxiliary systems had begun to be effected. Picard had visited engineering early that morning, and had been distinctly displeased with their lack of progress.  
  
Data turned an inquisitive glance toward his friend. "Geordi, you mentioned before that your visor, in addition to registering the additional heat in the core, also picked up a subtle change in the hue of the engine. Have you yet explained the color variation to your satisfaction?"  
  
"No Data - but I can't see how that might be part of the problem we've got here. It could just be the normal reading for the new core."  
  
"Did your visor register this change when we left starbase?"  
  
"No, it wasn't until we jumped to warp. Data, I see where you're going here, but I just don't know how the two go together."  
  
"As you know Geordi, I have come to believe that by eliminating all answers that are impossible, and proven irrelevant, whatever that has been left unexplained is the most likely solution. We have run all known diagnostic procedures, and are left without an answer. Perhaps it is time to refocus our attentions."  
  
Geordi let out a long sigh and clapped Data on the shoulder. "I guess there's no other choice, Data. First of all, let's go make sure there's nothing wrong with my visor. Or me."  
  
*********  
  
The doors to sickbay swished open, and Data and Geordi walked through. They had arrived at the planet only an hour ago, and away teams were busy preparing to descend to the surface. Ensign Sepulveda approached them.  
  
"Can I help you sirs?"  
  
"We're here to see Dr. Crusher. Is she available?" Geordi smiled at the young woman.  
  
"She's just returning from lunch. We expect her any minute. If you' like to wait.?"  
  
"Yes, that will be satisfactory. Thank you ensign." Data observed the bustle in the offices.  
  
"It is unlike Dr. Crusher to leave sickbay at this busy time. I wonder."  
  
"Wonder no longer, Data. I was merely cleaning up some unfinished business." Crusher's expression was unreadable.  
  
"We can see you're busy here Doc - but can you spare a minute? I need to get a check of my visor."  
  
"Certainly Geordi - are you having problems?" Beverly's eyes flashed a momentary concern.  
  
"I'm not sure." Geordi explained the situation as Crusher removed the device and began to run it, and Geordi, through a serious of tests.  
  
An hour later, they had determined that the variations in Geordi's readings had no mechanical or biological origins. Whatever he'd seen had come from the warp core.  
  
"Well, I guess that's a start." Geordi shook his head in discouragement. "But I'm not sure where it gets us."  
  
"If I didn't know any better, Geordi, I'd say your ship's got a fever," Beverly tossed off the remark as she gently clicked the visor back into place. "Why don't you try some aspirin, and give me a call if there's still a problem in the morning."  
  
LaForge smiled wryly. "Don't be so quick to quip, Doc. We may all be working on this 'virus' before we find the cure." Geordi laughed and slid off the bio bed. He and Data walked toward the door, no closer to finding a solution.  
  
Data paused. "Geordi, I believe that Doctor Crusher may have made a productive suggestion. We have run an exhaustive mechanical diagnostics, but have yet to do any biological analysis. It is possible that we have a contaminant in the core. I suggest that we further pursue this line of investigation."  
  
"Why not Data. We've got nothing to lose." Geordi looked skeptical, but at this point was willing to try anything.  
  
With that the two officers waved to Beverly and continued briskly toward the door, a new sense of purpose lightening their step. "Let me know if you need help," she called after them.  
  
*********  
  
Off the starboard bow, a cloaked vessel hovered over the Enterprise, watching. Phasers trained on the warp core, they waited for any sign of trouble. T'shar had indicated that no action was to be taken against the ship without confirmation and authorization. However, B'nar was apprehensive as they orbited the planet. He loathed the Federation, and itched for a reason to begin a battle. But, orders were orders.  
  
The vegetation on the planet was critical to the plans the M'dar empire had formed. Extracted and refined properly, its effects were perfectly suited for their purposes - which were to create soldiers to carry out suicidal missions, missions that required fierce loyalty, enormous physical strength, and unbendable will. Federation scientists had developed such drugs long before, but these had been short-sightedly banned by their governing council. Since, the formulas had been destroyed, or classified. But the scientists who developed them were alive and well. Paid enough, some had been more than willing to share their expertise.  
  
The engineered soldiers, combined with the insidious and destructive power of the new M'dar bio-nanites, meant that the terrorist splinter cell posed a mighty threat to the pompous and overconfident Federation. And even if this pilot mission were unsuccessful, there were plenty of Cardassian and Romulan factions that would pay a high price to obtain the prototypes of the biotechnology.  
  
A triumphant expression on his face, B'nar decided it would not hurt to be patient.  
  
*********  
  
Crusher felt the familiar tingle as she materialized the following morning on Hepa III. During the briefing that morning, Commander Data had explained that while hospitable, the planet had never been colonized. Taking a whiff of the air, it was not difficult to understand why. The aroma was distinctly unpleasant. "Data, what IS that odor?!"  
  
"I am unable to ascertain the origin Doctor. However repugnant, it is not toxic. I believe it may have something to do with the flora."  
  
Will Riker flashed a smile and scratched his beard. The smell would be a long time dissipating from his mustache. "Consider it karma, Doctor - if I'm not mistaken this isn't far from the aroma of the plants you've had Emma Dumonde studying all week."  
  
"Whatever do you mean, Commander?" Beverly smiled and batted her eyes. "Are you accusing me of having less than pure motives for my crew assignments? Saying that I am being disingenuous?"  
  
"Conniving, mischevious."  
  
Riker smiled wickedly at her and she returned it. "Will, leave the thesaurus duties to Data. Let's get to work."  
  
The sickbay crew coordinated with exobotany all morning collecting samples. By the end of the first shift, the entire away team had a faint greenish hue to their complexions. A few had made their way to inconspicuous locations to give up whatever had remained of their breakfasts. Crusher stood with Alyssa Powell as the young woman leaned against a tree and tried to regain her composure.  
  
"And you thought morning sickness was a thing of the past." Beverly offered a hand to Alyssa as she pushed herself off the tree and got back to collecting samples. She was only answered with an agonizing groan.  
  
Beverly tapped her comm. "Crusher to Riker."  
  
"Go ahead Doctor." Will's normally jovial tone was distinctly absent.  
  
"Please have all personnel report to the planet away base. I'm having someone beam down here from sickbay. We got to get some anti-nausea medication onboard the away team. This situation is miserable." Beverly felt decidedly ill herself, and was unwilling to let the rest of the crew suffer another minute.  
  
"Much appreciated, Beverly. Riker out."  
  
"Alyssa. I want you to beam back and collect serum for the away team. I'll coordinate units down here to move people through a hypospray rotation."  
  
"Aye sir." Powell nodded at Crusher and tapped her badge. "Powell to Enterprise - one to beam up."  
  
*********  
  
"Data, I think we actually may be on to something here. I'm just not sure what." After running a complete spectral analysis of the core, Geordi and Data had discovered early that morning that the change of hue he'd detected was not an illusion. By early that afternoon, they had been able to determine that the overall change in color was the result of thousands of miniscule particles that mimicked, but did not match, the colors of those in the warp core. That was as far as they'd gotten.  
  
*********  
  
Nurse Powell worked with Dumonde to replicate and assemble enough serum to cover the entire away team. Aware of her boss's uncertainties regarding Dumonde, Alyssa watched her closely. To date, there was nothing to note regarding her behavior.  
  
"How's it going on the planet?" Emma asked Powell.  
  
"The collection is going fine, but as you can see, we're all having a little trouble with the smell. It smells a lot like the Omega samples you've been studying."  
  
"Well, it doesn't really bother me. Perhaps I should volunteer my services planetside."  
  
Alyssa responded quickly. "I think we've got it covered down there. These hypos should take care of any problems." Competent or not, Powell doubted Beverly would be happy if she beamed back down with Dumonde in tow.  
  
Dumonde smirked. She had no illusions about the loyalty of the sickbay staff. While they may not have been sure of the reasons, they were finely tuned to their boss's moods and preferences. No matter. Dinner with Picard lay at the end of the day, and there would be no more delaying. Crusher would soon find herself on the loosing end of the war of wills.  
  
*********  
  
"Crusher to Enterprise. Five to beam up."  
  
Exhausted, grimy, famished, and still slightly ill despite the inoculate effects of the hypo, Crusher and her team materialized in transporter room three with vast quantities of samples gathered on the planet. A thorough group, they had collected any and all distinct species of plant life on the surface. Now, the real work of study would begin. Half the samples would be analyzed by sickbay teams, hoping to glean medical uses, and the other by exobotany to extract any possible scientific applications.  
  
Crusher dismissed the group to quarters, and headed toward the lift herself. "Deck 8." Nothing appealed to her now so much as a hot bath and some aromatherapy. Grouchy as her stomach was, the thought of food tied it in a not and sent waves of nausea through her tired frame. Disembarking near her quarters, Crusher saw Picard headed down the corridor from the opposite direction. Apparently, she'd timed it perfectly to coincide with his arrival at Emma Dumonde's. How fortuitous. Feeling decidedly un- commanding in her current state, she tried to slink off the lift and miss his attention. Sneaking anywhere was made difficult by her firebrand of red hair. She was promptly apprehended.  
  
"Dr. Crusher! How was the trip to the planet?" Picard approached, wine in hand. Crusher eyed it coolly.  
  
"Quite a vintage I see, Jean-Luc. Big plans for tonite?" Waves of nausea again overtook her, but this time they had nothing to do with the thought of food. Her pallor was obvious, and Jean-Luc gently grasped her arm.  
  
"It seems the mission was quite taxing. Are you well, Doctor?" His hazel eyes darkened a bit in concern.  
  
"Quite, Captain. Nothing a long, hot, aromatic bath and a good massage can't handle. The muscles in my neck are tighter than a protean knot." To illustrate her point, she rubbed at her shoulders. "The first I can handle, but I'm afraid I'll have to recruit a volunteer for the latter. A pity you're busy." With that, she placed a finger on his nose, turned, and strutted toward her quarters. She looked like death warmed over, but that wasn't the image she'd left with Picard. Hopefully he was still thinking about her and a hot bath.  
  
"A pity indeed, Doctor," Picard muttered. Again, shaking his head, he continued on to Dumonde's quarters. Not that he was unaware of the game Crusher was playing. It wasn't hard to pick up on her frequent innuendos. Rather, he was more confused as to where she was leading. Occasionally, he reflected on the kiss they'd shared during his recent hassles with Q. It had been lingering and full of promise, but in reality had never occurred. He found himself wishing it had. But, Beverly herself had insisted that their relationship go no farther. Instead, he found himself standing at Emma Dumonde's quarters, pursuing what had been freely offered. He leaned forward and gently pressed the door chime.  
  
Emma greeted him at the door, looking as ravishing and relaxed as Crusher had hoped he'd pictured her when she stalked off. Picard presented the wine and strolled into the candlelit room. Lifting an eyebrow, and gazing around, he watched as Emma neatly corked the bottle and offered him a glass.  
  
"Thank you, Emma. How was your first rotation on the day shift?"  
  
"Pleasantly busy, and surprisingly interesting. I was beginning to think the Enterprise was nothing more than dim lights and bouts of insomnia."  
  
"Well, I'm glad we've disabused you of the notion - I'd hate you to think of us as dull."  
  
"Not a chance, Captain. Would you care to sit down to dinner?"  
  
They chatted easily as the meal quickly disappeared. Sated, they retired to the sofa and refreshed their wine. Picard was drowsed by the conversation and spirits. Emma was striking, and there were none of the awkward moments that punctuated his encounters with Beverly. Relaxing into the sofa, he found himself now inches away from her.  
  
Quitting conversation, Emma was now staring intently at the Captain. Her thoughts were transparent as her finger traced the rim of her glass. Confidently, she leaned in and kissed Picard firmly. Responding, Picard lost his thoughts in the moment.  
  
*********  
  
Meanwhile, Data and Geordi had made no further progress since diagnosing the original engine problem. Geordi gave Data a weary glance. "She's not going to like this."  
  
"I concur Geordi. However, I see no other way to move forward. The problem continues to worsen."  
  
"LaForge to Doctor Crusher."  
  
"Crusher here." She had been comfortably relaxing in the bath, working to scrub the grime from her body and thoughts of Emma and Jean-Luc from her mind. She'd gotten rid of the smell, but not the thoughts. Maybe Geordi could help her cause.  
  
"Sorry to disturb you Doctor, but Data and I are in engineering, and we're stumped. We're hoping you might be able to help us out."  
  
"No problem Geordi. Love to help. I'll be down shortly. Crusher out."  
  
LaForge tapped his badge. "Now that was way too easy." He let out a low whistle. "Data, my friend, let's hope our luck holds out this well for the poker game tomorrow nite."  
  
Minutes later, Crusher walked quickly into engineering. LaForge and Data explained the presence of the microparticles, but their inability to pinpoint the result of their presence or of their nature.  
  
"Doctor, you indicated that the Enterprise showed signs of a fever. Given this diagnosis, what would be your recommended course of action?"  
  
"Well Data, typically it's best if you let a fever run its course. You mentioned that the ship's core temperature had been steadily increasing. It may be a mechanical response from the engine to realign the energy output balance. But the question is, how hot can we let it get? There is a point during a course of treatment when it is no longer advisable to let the fever rise. And we're still faced with the question, will it be successful in eliminating the particles?"  
  
"Unknown Doctor. A supposition, if I may."  
  
"Go ahead Data."  
  
"Often, an antibiotic is used to cure the patient when a high fever is not an acceptable alternative. Would it be possible to develop an antibiotic in this situation, Doctor?"  
  
"I'm not sure Data. I've been on the ship long enough to know that nothing is impossible. But this is a strange situation indeed. But before we could begin moving any further, I'd need a sample of the microparticles. Is that possible, Geordi?"  
  
"That's a tall order Doc. We'd have to fully shut down the warp core, disengage the reactors, and enter the chamber. It's rare that anything of that scope would ever be attempted out of space dock."  
  
Data appeared unphased. "Geordi, given the unusual nature of the problem, it is conceivable that it will demand an unusual solution. The USS Stanton is the nearest ship to our location, and is over a week away. Starbase 202 is also a week away at full impulse. If the core temperature continues to increase, it is possible that the ship will not last that long."  
  
Their faces grim, the three officers nodded darkly at the others. Beverly looked resolute.  
  
"I see no other alternative than to have the Captain's input on the matter. Would you two like me to raise him?"  
  
Geordi and Data glanced at each other nervously. It was late in the evening, and neither were willing to disturb the Captain over the matter. Crusher, however, seemed perfectly content to hail Picard.  
  
"Doctor, I still need to compile the specs to complete the procedure. I could present it at the staff meeting in the morning."  
  
"Don't be silly, Geordi. It makes no sense for you to spend an entire night devising a plan that the Captain might not approve." With all the brashness of a Klingon approaching battle, Crusher tapped her comm.  
  
"Crusher to Picard." She received no answer.  
  
Data, for all lack of emotion, could still sense Geordi's tension and Crusher's bravado. "Perhaps Doctor, we could hail Commander Riker?"  
  
"Nope - Data, you know as well as I that Will would defer to the Captain."  
  
"Beverly to Jean-Luc - you know I'm not going to stop my hails - you might as well answer."  
  
Geordi raised his eyebrows. Data seemed extremely engrossed in whatever was displayed on his PADD.  
  
An extremely agitated Picard responded to the hail. "Go ahead Dr. Crusher."  
  
"Captain, I'm afraid that you're needed in main engineering as soon as you're. available." Crusher's smile was immutable, despite Picard's tone.  
  
"Very well Doctor. I will be down as soon as possible. Picard out." The edge in his tone was unmistakable.  
  
"Don't worry boys. I'll handle him." Beverly laid one hand on Geordi's chest and another on Data's arm, giving them both a conspiratorial wink.  
  
Geordi and Data were both relieved that Crusher was the one to brook Picard's anger as he stalked into main engineering.  
  
"Dr. Crusher, I demand to know why you have brought me here in the middle of the night."  
  
Crusher held up her hand to stop the tirade. "Ship's emergency captain, nothing more. And it appears as though I didn't drag you from the throes of. sleep."  
  
Grumbling, Picard impatiently tugged his tunic and leveled a gaze at the two uncomfortable looking officers off pointing tricorders at the warp core.  
  
Raising his voice slightly, Picard called to them. "Geordi, Data, an explanation please?"  
  
"Yes sir." Scowling at Crusher, the two shuffled over toward the Captain and launched into an explanation of the work of the past day. After the briefing, Picard concurred that the warp core shut-down take place immediately. While still brusque, he approached Crusher with somewhat less animosity.  
  
"Doctor, you will assist Data and Geordi in finding a solution to this conundrum. I expect a full report in the morning."  
  
*********  
  
Now off the port bow, the M'dar ship moved slightly away from the Enterprise and into a better position to fire on the larger ship. Readings indicated that the entire warp core had been shut down. This was close to the desired effect of the bio-nanites, and it was clear that the core temperature on the ship was still rising. B'nar waited impatiently for orders from his commanding officer.  
  
*********  
  
The chime to Picard's quarters rang at precisely 0700. Surprised, he glanced up from his cup of tea. "Come."  
  
At the door stood a very disheveled and exhausted Dr. Crusher. She looked approximately as she had upon beaming back from Hepa III, minus the dirt.  
  
"It looks as though someone could use an, em, 'long, hot, aromatic bath and a massage,' Doctor." Picard's tone dripped sarcasm.  
  
"Very funny Captain. We've been up almost all night, but I think that Data may be close to gathering a sample of the microparticles. And with the warp core reactors completely shut down, the temperature has leveled out."  
  
Beverly sank into the nearest chair, threw her head back, and closed her eyes. Her shift started in an hour.  
  
"Perhaps, Doctor, you might ask Emma how she manages these difficult hours."  
  
Beverly's eyes remained closed, and her expression serene. "Jean-Luc, I know that you know me well enough by now to anticipate that that comment would typically earn you a torrent of expletives, insults, and accusations. Greater men than you would quaver and wilt into a pool of plasma. However, due to my vulnerable condition, and need to conserve energy, you have been granted a stay." She waved her hand weakly to illustrate her point. "However, you will be properly chastised at an undetermined, and let me assure you, unexpected moment in the future."  
  
"Turnabout is fair play, Doctor." Picard stood over Crusher's shoulders and began to firmly and gently massage. The muscles were knotted and tense. Crusher groaned. "Jean-Luc, the situation in engineering is not getting better. Although I don't really regret dragging you away from whatever you were doing last nite, we remain at a loss as to how to solve this problem."  
  
"I can assure you, Doctor, that my activities would have been of little interest to you."  
  
"On that point we agree. If I never know what you might have been doing when I hailed you, I will die a happy woman."  
  
Picard only chuckled. He ran his hands over Crusher's shoulders again, and walked over to the replicator. "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot." Instantly a cup appeared before him.  
  
"Why did you stop? I was just beginning to feel human again." Beverly assumed a mild pout and opened her eyes.  
  
"Why don't you come over to the table and have some tea and breakfast. Then go back to your quarters, take a cold shower, and drag yourself to the morning meeting. I'll wait until you arrive to start. I expect that Geordi and Data may be similarly delayed. Though they probably didn't have a personal masseuse waiting when they got back to quarters."  
  
"No, but at least Data has Spot. And he doesn't talk back." With none of her usual grace, Crusher made her way over to the table, grabbed the tea and a croissant, and turned to Jean-Luc. "But I suppose I can call myself lucky." She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "Let me know when you've finished conquering the galaxy, Jean-Luc, and we'll talk." With that she made her exit.  
  
*********  
  
"T'shar to B'nar. From what I can tell, the warp core on the Enterprise is responding approximately as we anticipated. The engines are completely offline. Attention to the planet is at a minimum. Drop back to a strategic position around the far side of the planet, and continue to monitor and pursue if necessary. T'shar out."  
  
Captain T'shar cut the signal and piggybacked it onto the general distress beacon the Enterprise was broadcasting. The ship was, for all intents and purposes, dead in the water. A plan perfectly executed. Ships would be infected by the M'dar bionanites, which would be remotely activated as soon as they were far from all available help. M'dar mercenaries would then board the prone vessels, slay the crew, and hijack the ships. How many would they board before they could take on the entire fleet? Five? Ten? It was a perfectly simple plan, and the first phase had gone well. They would carry out the experiment, destroy the Enterprise, and report back to the Chancellor.  
  
T'shar was in favor of hijacking the Enterprise itself, but the Chancellor insisted they use the attack later as a way of further demoralizing the Federation. If the Klingons, Cardassians, and Romulans all believed the M'dar capable of such a feat, they would become far more respected, and strengthen their strategic position. T'shar, however, craved the glory of standing on the bridge and commanding the legendary vessel. Imagine the power of wielding this particular ship..  
  
Orders, however, were orders. Now it was time to deal with the plant samples. They had to ensure that no records were ever recovered.  
  
*********  
  
Author note: This is it for now. I'm well into writing chapter three, and would love comments. I know there are some grammatical and consistency errors, but I'm still working on process. Hope you enjoyed. 


	3. Sabotage Three

Author note: My first attempt at fanfic here, so reviews appreciated. Not focused so much on plot as getting the feel of the characters and the process.  
  
Disclaimer: It's my understanding that there needs to be some sort of perfunctory acknowledgement that, like Q, Paramount is omnipotent, and I would never do anything to break the rules. So this is for fun and obsessed fans only.  
  
Sabotage Chapter Three  
  
*********  
  
"Jean-Luc, I'm terribly disappointed that we had to cut our evening short last nite." A pouting Emma Dumonde had appeared in his ready room that morning after the staff meeting. "I do hope we can reschedule. I was enjoying the chance to get to know you more. intimately." She moved past his desk and gingerly perched on the edge. An odd sense of deja' vu struck Picard, as none other than the beautiful Dr. Beverly Crusher had occupied that spot only months ago. Dumonde leaned suggestively forward. Appealing as Emma was, she still had a bit to learn about the inner machinations of Jean-Luc Picard. He was distinctly uncomfortable with her intrusion on his work, which currently consisted of trying to find a way out of their engine troubles.  
  
Clearing his throat, he placed his hand on her shoulder and gently eased her back. "I'm sure, Lieutenant, that we may find another opportunity in the near future. However, I am currently in the middle of a tricky set of calculations, and unable to attend to more personal matters." Passing time with Beverly in this way was one matter. Flirting with a new Lieutenant in his ready room was quite another.  
  
"Very well, but I'll hold you to that." Dumonde slid off the desk and glided out the door. Picard grimly noted that it was by way of the main bridge.  
  
Already distracted from his work, Picard took a moment to let his thoughts wander. Emma Dumonde was little mystery - and he found her candor refreshing. The fair Doctor, however - an enigma that he never seemed to be able to solve. Before she'd left that morning, Beverly had told him to 'get back to her when he finished conquering the galaxy.' What exactly had she meant? Their careers were equally important to them, so it made little sense that she had meant to insinuate anything about Starfleet. He pushed the thoughts aside. It was no use trying to figure her out - she'd maker herself perfectly clear when she was ready.  
  
*********  
  
After the staff meeting, Beverly proceeded directly to sickbay. She'd wanted to detour to her quarters for an 8 hour nap, but she needed to check the progress on the plants they'd collected at Hepa III. Alyssa had requested specifically to coordinate the project, and Beverly had been happy to comply.  
  
She glided through the doors and made straight to biolab two. "Anything good, Alyssa?"  
  
"Hi Doctor. I've only been at it for a day, but these plant species are amazing. They're extremely adaptable. Their DNA and RNA are extremely complex, and there are millions of unused strands archived within each species. What's fascinating, however, is how well the dormant strands react when they're re-sequenced and activated."  
  
"Good job Lieutenant," Crusher squeezed the young woman's arm and gave her a wink. "Before I know it, you'll be running the sickbay. Or even worse - Starfleet will steal you away from me."  
  
Powell blushed and beamed. "I promise to mention you in my memoirs, Doctor!"  
  
"Well, keep at it - I'll look for a preliminary report at the end of your shift."  
  
Crusher strolled into her office and sat down to stare at her terminal. Data would be arriving momentarily with the microparticle samples. Until then, Beverly took the chance to daydream. She'd dropped a pretty big hint this morning at breakfast. Jean-Luc was one of the most brilliant men in Starfleet, but at times could be stunningly obtuse. She wondered if he'd catch on. Actually, Beverly was unsure why she'd even said anything. Mostly she figured it had to do with her 16 hour shift and hours of staring at the warp core. Picard's strong hands massaging her tense muscles probably played a role too.  
  
Months ago she'd changed her mind about pursuing a deeper relationship, but had never really found a way to bring it up without feeling like an ass. 'Oh Jean-Luc, I've been thinking about it, and I changed my mind. Let's get married.' Actually, she'd regretted her chilling words the moment they'd escaped her lips that night after KesPryt. She'd simply meant that they should be cautious. She'd already had two failed affairs onboard, and had no desire to make it an uneven three - especially at the expense of her friendship with Jean-Luc. But Picard was so sensitive. He'd taken it as a rejection, and she'd had to work for weeks just to re-establish their old rapport. She did love him, she knew that. On the other hand, Picard was a cad. How could she be sure that what she thought she saw in his eyes was no more than the thrill of the chase? She knew he was attracted to her, but his thoughts on KesPryt had been so muddled, and he'd flat out said he didn't feel the same way about her as he used to. Beverly was unwilling to count the moments she'd spent in this particular vein of mental tug of war.  
  
"Doctor?" Data gently touched her shoulder. "Doctor?"  
  
Beverly started. "Data, I'm sorry - I didn't hear you there. Just gathering wool."  
  
Crusher took in Data's puzzled expression. "Daydreaming, Data."  
  
"Ah. Yes Doctor. 'Gathering wool.' A Terran colloquialism."  
  
"Yes Data. Do you have the microparticle samples?"  
  
"Affirmative Doctor. I have also left some samples in main engineering that Geordi is currently examining." Data set a metal cylinder on her desk. "I believe that I have been able to isolate the particles. They stayed suspended while in the warp core, but in the canister they have collected at the bottom, and appear to conform to gravitational norms. In order to view them, you will need to use a quantum microscope. I have requested that the exobotany lab bring one up immediately."  
  
The doors leading to main sickbay opened on cue, and an ensign walked through, quantum microscope tentatively balanced on a hovercart. Crusher and Data walked out to greet her. Beverly motioned to biolab two. "Right in there, ensign." Beverly smiled and, hand on his elbow, escorted Data to the door. "Let me know if you guys find anything down there."  
  
"Of course Doctor."  
  
Crusher walked over to biolab two, where Alyssa Powell and the exobotany ensign were deep in conversation.  
  
"Their RNA sequencing is the most adaptable I've ever seen! I can't believe Starfleet didn't begin investigating Hepa III ages ago."  
  
"A year out of the Academy and already you're calling the shots, ensign?" Beverly adopted a stern expression.  
  
"Sir, no, sir," stammered the ensign. "I was simply explaining to Lieutenant Powell how fascinated I was by the Hepa III flora species."  
  
"Well, why don't you go discuss it over lunch? I want some quiet in here while I calibrate this microscope. And I'm not likely to get it with you two playing armchair admiral." Crusher grinned.  
  
"Aye, sir." came the unanimous reply. Powell smiled while the young ensign seemed relieved. They wheeled out of sickbay.  
  
Beverly turned to the microscope and set about her task.  
  
*********  
  
Hours later, she had become engrossed in the research. The particles recovered from the warp core were not mechanical, nor biological, but a hybrid. She wondered what Geordi had discovered.  
  
"Crusher to LaForge."  
  
"LaForge here Doctor."  
  
"Geordi, what have you discovered about the particles? My work has been quite interesting."  
  
"Same here Doc., though I'm afraid we probably haven't gotten as far down here. We've been busy all day trying to keep auxiliary systems running while we wait for a tow to Starbase."  
  
"Well, let's meet at 0700 before the staff meeting and coordinate what we've found. By then I might have discovered a way to solve this puzzle."  
  
"Sounds good to me. I could go my entire career without the Enterprise being towed anywhere."  
  
"I'll do my best Geordi. Crusher out." She could imagine how Geordi must feel. And how Jean-Luc must be feeling similarly humbled. Perhaps a productive experience for the captain.  
  
She tapped her comm. "Computer, time?"  
  
"The current time is 1700 hours."  
  
Beverly's stomach howled. She hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning. She downloaded what she'd found on the particles to engineering for Geordi's perusal, stood, and stretched. As she made her way toward the door, Alyssa marched into her office.  
  
"I've got that preliminary report, Doctor."  
  
"Set it on my desk, Alyssa. I'm off for a very late lunch. I promise to read it when I get back."  
  
"No problem Doctor. I'm headed out myself. Are you sure you don't want to swing by our quarters and sneak a visit with Matthew?"  
  
"Lieutenant, are you encouraging your superior officer to play hooky?"  
  
"Just a little bit, sir."  
  
"Then it'll be just a little bit of hooky."  
  
*********  
  
Geordi had been struggling all day to spend any time studying the microparticles. Gladly, he launched into what Dr. Crusher had just downloaded. He'd been able to ascertain that the particles were dual in nature, but had not reached the level of detail Crusher had. The difficult part now would be figuring out how to get rid of them. Neither strictly mechanical nor biological, it would be difficult to craft an approach to eradicating them. And doing it without blowing up the warp drive.  
  
"Data, can you come here for a minute?"  
  
*********  
  
"Captain. Fancy meeting you here." Crusher tossed a bemused look over her shoulder at Emma Dumonde's quarters. Again, she'd run into Picard on his way to the beautiful lieutenant's cabin, and again, she looked like hell. Now approaching her 22nd hour on duty, she'd seen Ferengi who looked sexier.  
  
"Doctor. What have you been up to?" The captain appraised his usually radiant CMO. Her hair was flat and haphazardly pulled back in clips. Her eyes were slightly sunken, with dark circles imprinted beneath them. Her normally creamy, translucent skin was dull.  
  
"Oh nothing. Just slaving away for an unappreciative and unrelenting task master of a CO."  
  
"Well, whoever he or she is, should be ashamed of themselves. Beverly, you're clearly in need of a, well, a long hot bath, a massage, and most importantly, a good night's sleep."  
  
"In that case, why don't you page me when you're done with your femme du jour," she snapped as she strode into the lift and promptly clicked the door shut. She'd not meant to lose her temper, but she was a Howard, and she had been keeping poor hours for days. He was lucky she hadn't laid him out on the deck right there with a surprise left hook.  
  
*********  
  
"You're quite the hostess." Picard had arrived at Dumonde's cabin for an early dinner before she started her shift. Candles lit every available surface.  
  
"I was going for a mood. Do you think I was successful?"  
  
"I'm only guessing at what mood you're going for here, but I'll have to say yes." She approached slowly and he handed her yet another bottle of Picard vintage. Setting it on the table, she sauntered over to him. Languidly, she stroked his chest, kissing him passionately. She reached behind his neck, rubbing gently. Suddenly, with her other hand, she injected him with a loaded hypospray.  
  
*********  
  
In her quarters, Emma Dumonde loaded another hypospray and turned to the mirror. Pausing a moment to tuck a stray lock of hair back into place, she smoothed her uniform and walked out the door.  
  
Picard hadn't known what hit him. What a fool. He was so distracted by her seduction that he had not noticed her subtle questions about the ship or her sharp eye for any information he'd had out in his ready room or his cabin. She walked over to the prone captain and gave him a kick. Out cold. As she headed toward the lift, a hint of a smile touched her lips.  
  
Crusher was alone in sickbay. She would neutralize the Doctor, destroy the plant samples, and quickly make her way to exobotany, which she had discover was also minimally staffed. Part of the upside of executing a plan for sabotage on the nightshift. Phaser in one hand, hypo in the other, Captain T'shar of the M'dar would make sure that the Enterprise crew would not have a chance to discover what her race had worked so hard to keep secret.  
  
"Sickbay." The lift surged toward its destination.  
  
Within the hour, she would be aboard her own ship, flagship of the Federation scattered in small pieces across the remote system.  
  
*********  
  
"Computer, time?" Crusher sighed, pulled out her ponytail, and raked her hands through her scraggly hair.  
  
"The current time is 1900 hours."  
  
Dumonde was late for her shift. Crusher had dismissed the evening on-duty attendant earlier because sickbay was dead. She and Dumonde could more than handle whatever came in. If the lieutenant ever showed up, anyway.  
  
She played a hunch. "Computer, location of Captain Picard?"  
  
"Captain Picard is in the quarters of Lieutenant Emma Dumonde."  
  
'That explains that,' she thought bitterly. "I'm a fool for loving that man." She was half angry at Picard for being so inconsiderate as to keep her staff from fulfilling their duty, and half mad at herself for being so angry in the first place. Frustration seemed to swirl about her. She slammed the padd she'd been reading down on her desk and stood. She stripped off her labcoat, paced her office, and sat back down, staring at the padd. 'I'm not getting any further on this tonite.'  
  
Crusher had been studying the report Alyssa had given her earlier that day. All the excitement over the plants from the surface had not been irrational. Her physician's mind boggled at all the possible applications. In the back of her mind, there was a shimmer of a thought. Too tired and consternated to explore it however, it remained a shapeless cloud. There was something there. A connection between what was going on and the plants from Hepa III. If only she could think! Frustrated, she docked the padd at her station and sent the entire report to Geordi. There was something there. Maybe he or Data would be able to take it further.  
  
Beverly sighed, picked up the padd again, and headed into biolab two to shut down the quantum microscope. Ideas or no, she was done for the nite.  
  
*********  
  
Silently, Dumonde entered sickbay through the reception doors. Slowly, she approached biolab two. Crusher was leaning over a large piece of equipment. Perfect. Not that T'shar hadn't been spoiling for a fight since she landed on the Enterprise. Nothing would have made her happier than seeing blood running from Crusher's smug face, trim nose shattered and regal jawline broken. The thought distracted her momentarily, but she continued forward.  
  
"Doctor?" She was immediately behind Crusher. The woman jumped and then turned toward her. T'shar took advantage of the surprise and cold cocked her. Reeling, Crusher fell backward into the wall. Rushing upon the struggling CMO and swiftly pinning her delicate neck to the wall with her forearm, T'shar wasted no more time in emptying the hypospray into her still confused victim.  
  
Quickly, she pulled Crusher behind the microscope, tore off her communicator and ground it beneath her heel. She then ran into biolab one. Phaser out, she destroyed each plant in the lab. Turning, she obliterated each of the lab stations. She hustled into Crusher's office and fired on her terminal.  
  
She ran to the door, left sickbay, and walked swiftly but calmly to the lift.  
  
"Exobotany."  
  
*********  
  
Turning from his work with the warp core, Geordi paused to see what Crusher had downloaded into the main engineering terminal. She'd gotten a long way that day with her research. Even LaForge could comprehend some of the possible applications. The plants were incredibly adaptable. Concentrating intently, Geordi supposed that they might even hold promise for biomechanical uses...  
  
LaForge sprang back from his terminal and clapped his hands joyously. "That's it Data, that's it!" He bounded over and slapped Data on the back. "The particles we've been studying - they're, they're like some sort of bio- mechanical hybrid Data! Crusher *was* on the right track! Somehow, this vegetation is linked to our problems with the warp core. What we need here is some sort of herbicide. Once the particles bio-systems shut down, the mechanical systems will too!"  
  
Triumphantly, he tapped his comm. "LaForge to Doctor Crusher."  
  
Silence. "LaForge to Crusher." Still no response. Geordi frowned. "Computer, location of Doctor Crusher."  
  
"Unable to locate Doctor Crusher."  
  
Geordi and Data exchanged puzzled glances. Data tilted his head, and readdressed the computer.  
  
"Computer, what is the last known location of Doctor Crusher?"  
  
The computer responded tonelessly, "Dr. Crusher was last located in sickbay, biolab two." Data continued his query. "Current occupants of sickbay?"  
  
"There are no persons located in sickbay at this time."  
  
The two officers exchanged even more troubled glances.  
  
"Data, it's not like Dr. Crusher at all to have a lapse in staffing."  
  
"I concur." Data tapped his comm. "Lt. Commander Data to security. Please send a team to sickbay immediately."  
  
Data and LaForge headed toward the lift, the warp core temporarily forgotten.  
  
*********  
  
Picard's mind was a dense fog. Hazily, he tried to recall where and when he was - and what had occurred. From what he could tell, he was not in his quarters. He sensed that the hour was late, and that he had been unconscious for a somewhat significant period. "Computer, time - and my current location please."  
  
"Time is 19:36 hours. You are located in the quarters of Lieutenant Emma Dumonde."  
  
Dumonde. He had arrived at her quarters, and.. he could remember little more. He moved up to the couch and sat heavily. His head was still spinning. What had happened? "Computer, location of Emma Dumonde."  
  
"Unable to locate Lieutenant Dummonde."  
  
Picard was still hazy, but that made little sense. What was going on?  
  
*********  
  
T'shar had made quick work of the remaining plant species in exobotany. The two ensigns on duty had not been as easily handled, however. She mused that had they survived, they likely would have been given commendations. Now angry at the time wasted disposing of the Federation lapdogs, she secured the doors and sat down at the closest terminal. All she needed to do was to contact B'nar on the M'dar ship, and they would be home free, their glorious plan realized.  
  
*********  
  
Geordi and Data arrived at sickbay seconds before the security team. Entering, they saw no immediate signs of activity, and set about searching the facility. As the security team entered sickbay, Data called out from biolab two. After completing their sweep of the area, the security team converged at the doorway, accompanied by a worried chief engineer.  
  
"Commander Data to Lieutenant Dumonde. Please report to sickbay immediately. There is a medical emergency." He was answered by silence.  
  
"Commander Data to Lieutenant Powell. Please report to sickbay immediately. There is a medical emergency." A moment later Powell responded.  
  
"I'm on my way sir. Where is Doctor Crusher?"  
  
"Doctor Crusher has apparently been assaulted, and is in need of assistance."  
  
"Understood." Powell broke into a run.  
  
Geordi frowned. The events of the last few moments raced through his mind. "Data, where is Lieutenant Dummonde?" The crew members absence was inexplicable. He slapped his chest. "Computer, location of Lieutenant Dummonde?"  
  
"Unable to located Lieutenant Dummonde."  
  
Two missing Doctors?  
  
*********  
  
T'shar pounded the mangled communications terminal. There had been a lot of phaser fire disposing of the ensigns, and the terminal had been damaged. Unable to contact her ship due from exobotany, she would have to risk moving to another part of the ship. The tranquilizers she'd used were quite strong, but Picard's might begin wearing off soon. She knew her window of opportunity was closing. She was so close..  
  
Frustrated, she rose and exited the lab. The next best bet was transporter room three, four decks up. From there, she could contact her ship and beam out. By scrambling the corrdinates after transport, she hoped the Enterprise would not be able to locate the M'dar vessel. Initiating transporters on their ship would only raise flags, and alert the Enterprise to their presence. The operation was getting out of hand, but was still salvageable. Composing herself, she plastered on a serene expression and started down the corridor toward the lift.  
  
*********  
  
Picard's groggy mind was insistent that he regain consciousness. He sat up more fully, and leaned against the couch. Out of pain and instinct, he tapped his comm. badge. "Picard to Crusher." No answer. He groaned, which only made the pounding in his head worse. "Picard to Crusher." Now the pulsing pain in his head was joined by alert bells. What had happened? He could remember nothing of the past few hours. "Picard to sickbay. Please send a medical team to Emma Dumonde's quarters immediately."  
  
Much to his surprise, Data answered his call. Where was Beverly?  
  
"Immediately Captain. Is Lieutenant Dummonde with you?"  
  
"No Data." Picard's mind was a sea of confusion. "Data, why are you answering a hail to sickbay?"  
  
"Captain, there are currently no medical personnel available in sickbay. Geordi and I arrived here moments ago searching for Doctor Crusher. The Doctor has been wounded, and Lieutenant Dummonde is missing."  
  
None of this made any sense. His head was clearing more quickly now, and Picard began to regain some semblance of captaincy. It was time to answer some of the questions in his head. There was an explanation for his condition, and he suspected the Doctor's, and it made sense to start by pinning down the unknown variables. "Captain to Lieutenant Worf. Dispatch security and find Lieutenant Emma Dummonde. She is not wearing her badge, nor responding to hails. Notify me immediately when you find her. And place the ship on yellow alert. There have been two unexplained assaults."  
  
On the bridge, Worf tensed and leapt to action. "Aye captain. Sir - do you believe that the missing Lieutenant is responsible for the assaults?"  
  
"I don't know Worf. But I do believe it is important we find her."  
  
Worf tapped several components at his terminal and addressed the computer. "Computer, please locate any and all life forms on board the Enterprise who are not currently wearing comm. badges."  
  
After a moment of silence, the computer reported. "There are currently twenty-five individuals on board who are not wearing communications devices."  
  
"Computer, download coordinates for each of those individuals to the main bridge."  
  
"Download complete."  
  
Worf immediately dispatched small security teams to each location. All but three were personal quarters - it was most likely those individuals in quarters were either sleeping or showering. That left holodeck three, observation lounge twelve, and transporter room three.  
  
"Worf to transporter room three. Please report."  
  
Silence. Worf growled and ran to the lift. "Computer. Lock out all transporter functions immediately, authorization Worf beta-charlie-three."  
  
*********  
  
T'shar winced as she stepped off the lift and saw the yellow alert beacons come to life. They had not found her yet, but she had heard the hails. Her MIA status and the yellow alert could not be unrelated. She ran for the transporter room.  
  
Arriving, she quickly dispatched the surprised attendant, and shoved his body off the control panel. Tapping into the communications, she hailed her ship.  
  
"T'shar to B'nar - respond immediately!"  
  
The response came a few seconds later. "B'nar here Captain - what is your status?"  
  
"I have destroyed the plants, and am ready to beam out immediately. As soon as I am on board, fire all weapons on the Enterprise!"  
  
Hands flying over the comm. panel, T'shar set coordinates for her ship and turned to run to the transporter padd.  
  
At that moment, Lieutenant Worf burst through the doors, phaser trained on T'shar. She immediately raised her weapon, and backed slowly toward the panel. Touching it lightly, she reactivated the communications link to her ship.  
  
Worf stepped forward. "Lieutenant. I order you to drop your weapon." His voice became louder and more menacing. "Now."  
  
T'shar's life may be over, but the M'dar mission would not fail. "B'nar! Fire all weapons, now!" She had barely finished her sentence when Worf discharged his phaser, crumpling her to the ground.  
  
"Worf to bridge, red alert!"  
  
The alert claxons had not even sounded when the ship was rocked by phaser fire and photon torpedoes.  
  
"Lieutenant Worf to sickbay. Medical team needed in transporter room three." He tapped his comm. again, and recalled the search teams, commanding two of his officers to his current location. They would be getting answers from this traitorous woman.  
  
*********  
  
On the bridge, Riker stood in front of the captain's chair and swore. What the hell was going on? He glared at the Lieutenant at the conn. "Status, Lieutenant Roosevelt?"  
  
"Shields holding at 50% sir. There are damage and casualty reports from main engineering and surrounding decks. It seems the primary target was the warp core, sir."  
  
"Lieutenant, evasive maneuvers. Find out where the hell that ship fired from, and fire back. Target their weapons and propulsions systems."  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
Debris covered the bridge, illuminated by flashing emergency lighting.  
  
If Worf had called the red alert a second later, they would be floating space junk.  
  
*********  
  
On the M'dar ship, Commander B'nar was seething. What had happened to T'shar? Regardless, he was going to fulfill the mission. They had worked to hard to get to this point. He ordered tactical to train all weapons on the Enterprise. He was going to make one more pass.  
  
*********  
  
Enemy fire again rocked the Enterprise. Riker flew back into his chair, but stood immediately, watching as on the view screen, a ship shimmered in and out of existence, firing heavily.  
  
Sparks shot from blown conduits all over the bridge. Science station three had exploded, killing two rearward officers. Lifesupport was online, but internal stablizers were on fritz. The whole bridge was sloped at a 30% angle.  
  
"Lieutenant Roosevelt - lock on to their trajectory and fire at will!"  
  
Riker watched as phasers and photon torpedoes appeared in subspace, floating toward an invisible target. The torpedoes went wide, but the phasers were spot-on. The enemy vessel reappeared, this time at a pitched and haphazard angle.  
  
"Report, Lieutenant!"  
  
"Target hit, sir. Damage to their main weapons array and primary propulsion systems. Cloaking device offline."  
  
"Very good." Riker strode forward and clapped Roosevelt on her shoulder. On his right, the forward conn panel was melted. Luckily, the officer manning it had been thrown clear by the initial impact of the phasers. "Open hailing frequencies."  
  
"Channel open, sir."  
  
"This is first officer William T. Riker of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Stand down all weapons systems, or we will be forced to fire on your ship again!"  
  
"The ship is not responding, sir."  
  
"Enemy ship. I repeat, stand down and identify yourselves immediately."  
  
"Still no response, Commander."  
  
"Very well. Lieutenant, target weapons systems, and fire at 50%. Then lock on tractor beam. I want some answers."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
*********  
  
I am truckin' on chapter four. I thought there would only be three chapters, but the story got away from me. Hope this chapter flushed out the plot a bit more. 


	4. Sabotage Four

Author note: My first attempt at fanfic here, so reviews appreciated. Not focused so much on plot as getting the feel of the characters and the process.  
  
Disclaimer: It's my understanding that there needs to be some sort of perfunctory acknowledgement that, like Q, Paramount is omnipotent, and I would never do anything to break the rules. So this is for fun and obsessed fans only.  
  
Sabotage Chapter Four  
  
*********  
  
Picard had been on his way to sickbay with the medical team when the first blow rocked his ship. Now, he stood watching as casualties began streaming in. Without the two primary physicians available, the medical crew was doing its best to triage and treat victims. The EMH had been activated, and Data was also attempting to assist. Geordi had departed minutes ago for main engineering.  
  
"Picard to bridge, report!"  
  
"Sir!" The angry voice of Will Riker responded. "An unidentified vessel fired on us twice. We have been able to neutralize the threat, and are preparing to lock tractor beams. They have refused to answer hails."  
  
"Fine. I will be on the bridge momentarily. Picard out."  
  
He turned to leave, but at that moment was thrown to the floor by another shockwave. What the hell was going on? Chaos surrounded him as the pulsing emergency lights eerily illuminated medical personnel attempting to attend to injured patients, some of whom who were half-way thrown from biobeds, and some who had been pitched to the floor. He saw Beverly was one of the latter, moaning and being treated by a focused Alyssa Powell.  
  
"Picard to Riker! Report, Commander!"  
  
"Sir, the enemy ship has just exploded. They initiated a self-destruct sequence, and we were unable to retreat before recoil hit the Enterprise. There's heavy damage on the bridge, and all over the ship. Our shields were at minimum power by the time we were hit. There are hull breaches on several lower decks." Riker himself stood only a few feet away from a hole in the aft panel that partly exposed the ship's main observation lounge.  
  
"I don't want any more surprises, Will. Begin scans immediately for any other vessels in the vicinity. Stay on red alert. Picard out."  
  
"Aye, aye, Sir!" Riker's voice was grim and tense. He didn't like surprises either.  
  
"Picard to engineering - what's our status, Geordi?"  
  
"Sir, we've sustained heavy damage. I can't even estimate time for repair. We're lucky the warp core was offline, captain, or we'd be history."  
  
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Keep me apprised. Picard out."  
  
With that he walked over to where Powell was attending to Crusher. Kneeling, he turned to the woman. "What's her condition, Lieutenant?" Concern flashed in his eyes. Crusher's jaw was at a horrible angle, distorting her slim features into a grotesque mask.  
  
"She doesn't look it now, but she'll be fine sir." Powell smiled tersely and injected another hypospray into the Doctor's neck. "Before the attack, we found her tranquilized with the same compound in your bloodstream, with the broken jaw. We brought her to the main sickbay, but she was thrown from her bed during the fighting, and sustained a concussion and broken collarbone. We've got her stabilized, but we can't treat her until some of the more seriously wounded are cared for. Until we can properly set the broken bones she'll be sedated." Powell finished confidently, but turned a tender look toward Crusher. Her injuries had to have been quite painful.  
  
Had Crusher been conscious, she would have concurred. Her head hurt, her jaw hurt, her arms, hell, every part of her body seemed to be filled with fire. Additionally, there was a dull, uncomfortable, and constant ache in her shoulders and back. Not only that but she was pissed-off at Picard and Dumonde. Her only happy moment came when Alyssa finally sedated her, and she drifted off into a disturbed rest.  
  
Picard nodded at Powell silently, expression stoic, but eyes dark. Rising, he turned toward where Data stood with the EMH, supervising the medical team.  
  
"Commander, report." He was beginning to sound like a broken record.  
  
"Yes sir." Data's cool eyes surveyed the medical bay. "Some 100 casualties have been reported. An auxiliary treatment center has been established in cargo bay two, for less serious injuries. Those crewmembers who sustained injuries beyond medical intervention are in cargo bay one." Over the years, Data had begun to pick up on the fine art of the euphemism. "Without Dr. Crusher or other primary physicians, the medical team has been somewhat handicapped, but is responding well. I would say that the situation is, for the most part, under control."  
  
"Very well, Data." Picard laid a hand on the android's shoulder. "Continue here for as long as you feel it necessary, and then proceed to engineering to assist Mr. LaForge."  
  
"Aye, captain."  
  
"Lieutenant Worf to Captain Picard. I have Lieutenant Dumonde secured in the brig. It seems she was somehow in league with the enemy vessel that attacked us. Immediately before they opened fire, she contacted them and ordered the attack."  
  
Picard's brow furrowed, and squaring his shoulders, he tugged at his uniform. "Very well Mr. Worf. Stay there - I'll join you shortly." It was time to get to the bottom of all this.  
  
*********  
  
T'shar sat sullenly. She knew that since she was still alive, B'nar had not been successful. No matter. He would have destroyed the M'dar ship, after sending a final log to the homeworld. This mission might have failed, but the M'dar were not easily dissuaded. Hopefully she'd been able to destroy the Hepa III samples before the Federation had learned anything of substance. And, she had no doubt that her people would be able to make extensive use of the Enterprise specs she'd been able to transmit.  
  
T'shar had laid in wait for years, closely monitoring Starfleet personnel, and infrequently contacted by the M'dar with updates on the plan to overthrow the Federation. When the opportunity arose, she had kidnapped and murdered a young medical officer, assuming her identity. She had been embedded with Starfleet for over a year when she was finally able to maneuver a post on the Enterprise. She contacted the M'dar, infiltrated the spacedock at Starbase 202, and initiated the final sequence of the plan. It had been so glorious.  
  
She now sneered as Picard appeared in front of her cell. The Federation dogs would learn nothing.  
  
Picard eyed her calmly, his expression stern. "Lieutenant Dumonde. Explain your actions immediately."  
  
T'shar did not respond, did not even rise from her bunk. She only gazed forward, expression vacant.  
  
"I repeat, Lieutenant, explain yourself. You are not in a strong position. You will be stripped of rank and expelled from Starfleet unless you start talking. Now."  
  
She did not speak. She had no intention of revealing even her name. The M'dar plans could in no way be compromised. They would strike again.  
  
Picard turned to Worf. "Continue interrogating her, Mr. Worf. I want answers. And get Counsellor Troi down here as well."  
  
The Klingon growled, glaring at Dumonde. "Aye sir. Traitors are *without* honor. It will be my pleasure."  
  
Tapping his comm., Picard stalked out of the brig. "Picard to senior staff. Report to the observation lounge in one hour. I want a complete status report." He stalked into the waiting lift, on his way to the bridge. Anyone walking by at that moment could only describe his demeanor as pissed-off.  
  
*********  
  
The six available senior staff sat around the conference table, with a view to the main bridge as well as the stars. A stasis field had been erected to soundproof the room, though the air was filled with a thick cloud of silence as they waited for Picard. Troi thought wearily of her recommendation for yet another short leave for the crew when the maimed ship returned to starbase. Riker reflected glumly on the past week's events. A mysterious engine problem, a saboteur, and heavy casualties. The captain was not going to be a fun man to deal with. Not to mention the empty seat at his right hand. He would want expect answers from his crew, and they'd better be ready with them. Riker almost felt badly for Dumonde. Almost. He sat up and turned as Picard entered and took his seat.  
  
"Number One, report."  
  
"Sir. We are working to recover any debris from the enemy ship that may give us a clue as to their identity and purpose. Our efforts to analyze what we've collected has been slow, as engineering has been tied up with making repairs. Security is assisting in the efforts"  
  
He nodded to Worf and continued. "There are hull breaches on several decks that have been temporarily sealed. Main systems are off-line, but are expected to be restored in the next hour." He glanced again at Geordi, who nodded in confirmation. "Sickbay reports 117 injuries, 25 fatal." He ended his report, tone as dark as night.  
  
Picard only nodded. "Mr. Worf."  
  
"We have been unable to learn anything new from the Lieutenant. She remains. silent." Worf shifted in his chair, eyes narrow, his voice filled with disgust.  
  
Troi chimed in. "She's certainly deceiving us about something, captain. She is arrogant, and seems defiant. I don't think she cares what happens to her."  
  
Picard steepled his hands and sat for a moment, pensive.  
  
Data looked tentatively around the table. "Captain, before we came under attack, Geordi and I made a breakthrough regarding the previous malfunction of the warp core."  
  
Picard said nothing, but crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. Geordi jumped into the conversation.  
  
"Before she was attacked, Dr. Crusher downloaded the results of her research into the Hepa III plant samples to engineering. Seeing her research triggered a connection for me, and I figured out that the warp core had been seeded with some sort of bio-mechanical particles - organic nanites. Data and I were attempting to contact the Doc. When she didn't answer her hails, we suspected something was wrong."  
  
Finally, it seemed they were getting somewhere. "Mr. Laforge," intoned the captain, "were you able to come up with a means to repair the core?"  
  
"No sir, we believe that Dr. Crusher can get us on the right track, though." Geordi frowned.  
  
Picard's expression was similar. Swiveling his chair as if to address Alyssa, he tapped his chest. "Picard to Powell. Lieutenant, what is the status of Dr. Crusher?" Subconsciously, Picard was relieved to be able to check in on Beverly.  
  
"She's been treated and is resting, captain. Is there something I can help you with?"  
  
"Lieutenant, when do you think Dr. Crusher will be able to speak with us?"  
  
There was a moment's pause. "Well, sir, we may be able to safely revive her in an hour, but she won't be speaking with anyone for another day or two. Her jaw will be set during that time so it can heal properly."  
  
Picard's eyebrows shot up, and subdued grins were visible around the table. The mood in the room lightened just a bit. Dr. Crusher speechless.. for two days?  
  
"Thank you Alyssa. Picard out."  
  
He turned a menacing eye on his staff, and the grins disappeared. "Mr. Data, Mr. LaForge, it appears that you will be going it alone."  
  
"Sir, I believe that we will be able to derive what we need from Doctor Crusher's research. However, the solution may be delayed."  
  
"Very well, Data. There's a Federation rescue vessel due here in a couple days. I want all available officers to take a four-hour rest period, immediately. Each rotation will then work 12 hour shifts, punctuated by subsequent four-hour rest periods until we are back online. Let's see if we can get our ship cleaned up and operational before the cavalry arrives, shall we?"  
  
The captain's countenance left little doubt that this was not a request, but an order. His ship had been rendered helpless, and was badly beaten up - not to mention the fact that he'd personally been blindsided by an infiltrator, and lost crew members in the debacle. His pride had suffered a serious blow. The senior staff felt little better.  
  
*********  
  
Picard awoke from a dissatisfying sleep a few hours later, head still hurting from the drugs and stress of the previous night. He showered, dressed, and made his way to the bridge, where he and Will would manage repair operations throughout the day.  
  
On his way, be made a detour to sickbay.  
  
Entering, he immediately noticed that full power had been restored to the unit. All the beds were full, and some temporary beds filled available spaces. He spotted Crusher immediately, in a secluded corner. She seemed to be sleeping. He made his way to her bedside and smiled down. Her eyes were open. Normally crystalline and sharp, they were instead dark and cloudy. Her jaw had been set, and her expression was relaxed, but somehow troubling.  
  
"I'm glad to see that you're all right, Doctor." He gently laid his hand over hers.  
  
Her expression didn't change, but her eyes flashed and her hand moved slightly away. Picard was surprised.  
  
"Not yet ready for visitors?"  
  
Alyssa came over to help the struggling captain. "She's feisty, captain. She's got some medication on board that seems to ease her pain, but puts her in a foul mood." Alyssa laid a hand on her leg and favored Crusher with a firm, but not un-amused, look. She moved to the head of the bed, and gently eased it upward, putting Crusher in a relaxed sitting position. "If you're bold, we've got a terminal here for her. You can talk and she can write."  
  
Picard weighed his options. Clearly, Beverly was in full Howard flush. Likely, she'd been briefed on the situation, and knew that Dumonde was responsible for her, and the ship's, current condition. Unwilling as he was to continue, Picard was emboldened by Beverly's prone state. What could she do, write him to death? Besides, he wanted to apologize.  
  
"That would be fine Lieutenant. I'll let you know if I need anything further."  
  
"Aye sir." Powell looked wary and positioned the terminal in front of Crusher, handing her a stylus. Then she retreated hastily.  
  
"Doctor. I am glad to see you doing better. How are you feeling?"  
  
Beverly tapped slowly and steadily on the panel. "Bad. Your fault, JL."  
  
"Now, Beverly. You know this is not my fault. Please don't be angry with me. However, I am sorry for how this turned out."  
  
Tap tap tap. "Not angry. Angry = more pain. Calm = less pain. Annoyed."  
  
"Your jaw - it hurts too much to be angry?" She wrote nothing, but Picard read acknowledgement in her eyes. He knew his guess was on the mark. Since KesPryt, they had been not quite empathic. The implants had been completely removed, and the side effects had worn off. But it was almost as though they had left behind an echo. It probably had less to do with telepathy, and more with the understanding that came with knowing someone else's mind so intimately.  
  
More tapping. "Head too. And - bored. Out, now."  
  
Deep chuckles filled Picard's chest and escaped his mouth. Even in silence, Crusher's insistent voice filled his head. It must be driving her crazy to lay here and watch her staff bustle around, unable to even assist verbally. He wagered though, that the staff felt lucky she wasn't able to call the shots from the sideline. He also had a hunch several had been over to check on her routinely in the past hours, making sure she was as comfortable as possible.  
  
"Well, I'll talk to Alyssa and see what we can do about that. I've got to get to the bridge, but I promise I'll be back soon. Try and get some sleep." This time he grasped her hand firmly and smiled. Nothing of her expression changed, but there was some merriment in her eyes, and her brow lifted slightly. Reasonable or not, he did feel a bit guilty about what happened with Dumonde, and Crusher's current state, which seemed to be exceedingly uncomfortable. Hopefully she'd be able to return to her quarters soon, where, if nothing else, she could enjoy a holo-movie or some music. He himself wouldn't mind keeping her company for a while.  
  
********  
  
Picard spent the rest of the morning on the bridge. Repairs were going well, and he understood that Data and Geordi were making significant progress manipulating the dormant DNA in the plant to act as an agent in the organic nanites that triggered entropy in their cellular structure. They had little to work with, as the only remaining data was that which Crusher had downloaded yesterday. The missing plant samples and decimated science stations had assured them there was a connection between Hepa III, Emma Dumonde, and their current problems. They anticipated a solution by the end of the day. Worf had had no such luck in the brig, but engineering and security teams were still working on the remnants of the destroyed vessel.  
  
Picard glanced at the chronometer in his chair. 1300 hours. He was getting hungry, and he guessed his CMO was getting grouchy. He stood, tugging and smoothing his uniform.  
  
"You have the bridge, number one." Picard made his way to the lift. "Sickbay."  
  
Riker smiled. Out of friendship alone, he would visit Beverly later today. Troi had already been by, and no words were needed to report Crusher's condition and disposition to Riker. In fact, no words had even passed between Deanna and Beverly before a sour expression appeared on the empath's face. She lasted a total of two minutes before beating a hasty retreat. Riker thought Picard one of the bravest men in the galaxy as he headed off to sickbay. And that was pretty much the best match around for the likes of Beverly Crusher. He sighed inwardly and refocused his attention to ship's *official* business.  
  
********  
  
"She's sleeping now, Captain. We gave her an infusion of nutrients, and a mild sedative. She complained that the pain was too bad to let her sleep."  
  
"Thank you, ensign. When will she be ready to be discharged?"  
  
"I'm not sure sir, but soon. I'll ask Lieutenant Powell and let you know."  
  
Picard nodded, and drew a chair up next to Beverly's bed. Then, impulsively, he stood again. Walking over to Powell, he indicated that he would return in an hour to take Crusher back to her quarters. With that, he left sickbay, made his way to the lift, and ultimately to Beverly's quarters.  
  
Overriding the lock, he entered. While mostly a very neat person, Beverly's schedule had not left much time for order in the cabin. He walked through and gathered up discarded uniforms, placing them in the recycler. He bussed a couple of old teacups, one of which still held liquid. It seemed to be the remnants of the recipe he'd given Beverly previously for his "Aunt Adele's sleep aid." It touched him that she still so often used it to try and coax rest out of sleepless nights. He thought perhaps he might have been responsible for one or two. Sighing, he sat heavily on the couch.  
  
He had not paused to ruminate on events of the past week, and as he did so, became less satisfied with his own behavior. Beverly was younger than he, but with a soul as old as any he'd known. Dumonde had been practically a child, and he felt a bit silly. In fact, lately he'd been feeling silly about several of his past relationships. All had clearly been entered into simply for the fact that he knew they'd fail. But he was always tempted by women that gave themselves freely. He admitted the temptation allowed him to ignore the fact that he had been lazy about his relationship with Beverly. It was one he knew would actually work, and he had been too content with his career and the status quo to make a go of it. Changing courses with Beverly would change his life, and it scared him. But what significant success was ever accomplished without significant work and investment behind it?  
  
He knew Beverly's rebuff after KesPryt had not been serious, only an attempt to motivate him. While never speaking aloud, she'd conveyed her feelings to him tacitly throughout the years. Shadows of Jack had dissipated slowly as they'd served on the Enterprise, and truly, nothing stood between them now but inertia. Perhaps it was time for the unstoppable force to come to a truce with the immovable object. And, he'd always suspected there was a lot of heat under that cool exterior. It would be a shame to miss out. He wasn't ready to profess his undying love - but, he thought perhaps a change would suit him.  
  
Picard stood. Replicating several bunches of fresh, bright flowers, he placed them around the cabin. None had a strong aroma, as he guessed that would aggravate the Doctor's headache. Instead, they all carried subtle hints of lavender and citrus. He stripped the bed and retrieved fresh sheets. Setting lights at 50%, he made his way back to sickbay.  
  
********  
  
"And how are we now, Doctor?" Picard grinned at Crusher, whose expression had not changed from this morning.  
  
She tapped at her pad. "Out. Now."  
  
His countenance fell, and he paused uncomfortably. "Yes, well, I've spoken to Lieutenant Powell, and she feels it advisable to keep you here at least another night for observation." He could not help the small jibe. Beverly Crusher unable to get a word in edgewise was not an opportunity to be lost.  
  
Crusher's eyes danced, sparking. Her eyebrows raised.  
  
Alyssa darted over immediately. "I said nothing of the sort, Doctor Crusher. You are free to go." Powell shot captain a pleading look, and he smiled.  
  
"You are indeed, free Beverly. May I see you back to your quarters?" Crusher gave him a look that said 'not likely,' and slowly stood. It took her a moment to get her balance, and she wavered. Picard placed his arm around her. "Like it or not, Beverly, I think you need an escort." He said it quietly and with as much tenderness as possible. Crusher was probably feeling rather undignified, and the time for jokes had passed. She leaned against the bed while Picard gathered her padd, and they slowly made their way to the door.  
  
Powell rolled her eyes at the retreating figures and breathed a sigh. That man was crazy. But then again, so was her boss. She'd wagered several times in the Starfleet betting pool about their marriage date, and one of her early predictions had sailed by. She still had quite a few days left, though, and she figured she might strike it rich. After all, it was one of the largest running pools in the quadrant. A fortune awaited anyone lucky enough to pick the actual date. But there were runner-up prizes for those who had selected a date in the same week, and the same month. She wasn't sure how Will Riker had kept the pool a secret from those two, but everyone else in Starfleet, and several Federation members, had been betting for years. There were whole planets that had pooled together to buy-in. Crossing her fingers, she moved to assist another patient.  
  
********  
  
If she could have smiled upon entering her quarters, she would have. She'd been annoyed with Jean-Luc earlier, but not truly angry. It had been extremely thoughtful of him to tidy up. From what she could remember, the place had been messy when she'd left, and certainly had not been as cheery or smelled as welcoming. He turned to take in her approval, and received a sparkling look from her azure eyes. It suited him fine.  
  
"Would you like to lie down?" he asked.  
  
She tapped at her padd. "Yes. Tired. Oww."  
  
He smiled sympathetically, and steadied her as she made for the bedroom, where she found the bed turned down and freshly made. He'd felt a little awkward about doing something so intimate as changing her linens, but he calmed himself with the thought that any good friend would do the same.  
  
She turned toward him again, her expression soft. He was, if nothing else, gallant. With Jean-Luc's assistance she eased into bed. He stuffed a few pillows at her back to keep her head and shoulders elevated, and sat down next to her.  
  
"Can I get you anything?"  
  
She shook her head slightly and very gently and looked toward her padd. Silently, he handed it to her.  
  
She resumed tapping. "Tired. Meds. Read. Sleep." The walk from sickbay had just about wiped her out, and her head was throbbing.  
  
Jean-Luc smiled, stood, and went to the living room to retrieve a hypo Powell had given him. He extended it to Beverly, who, instead of taking it, only inclined her neck. Taking the hint and a deep breath in, he gently placed it against the skin. It hissed quietly.  
  
"What would you like to read?"  
  
She tapped slowly for a minute. "You pick. You read."  
  
"Well, as you know I am a busy man. But, it is a captain's duty to comfort the injured when the CMO is not available." He squeezed her hand and went to the living room, where he selected a novel. He called Riker, indicating that we would be back on the bridge in an hour, and headed back toward the bedroom. By the time he returned, Beverly looked rather drowsy. "Do you still want me to read? You look rather sleepy." He found himself hoping she'd say yes.  
  
A slight nod and the look in her eyes encouraged him, and he sat down and opened the book. He'd only finished the first page before she was out like a light. He sat peacefully and contentedly for a few minutes more, before rising. He left a note on her padd indicating he'd be back around 1800 hours, and slipped out the door.  
  
********  
  
On the M'Dar homeworld, Chancellor H'rar angrily pounded his desk, jolting his secretary. Damn fools had ruined the mission. It had been a mistake to move while the Enterprise was so close to Hepa III. Undoubtedly, Starfleet would tie it all together, and move to restrict all access to the planet. Fortunately, the M'dar had been cloning and otherwise cultivating Hepa III flora for some time. But production was nowhere near what they had been harvesting. No matter. They would seed another planet, and they would try again. The M'dar was persistent, and determined. Now, they had learned from a field test, and they had the specs of the Enterprise in hand. Next time, they would not fail.  
  
*********  
  
All had practically returned to normal on board the Enterprise by the following morning. They were scheduled to rendezvous with the USS Cuyahoga in three hours for an escort back to starbase. Geordi was at least confident that they would be able to make it on their own power. Little had been learned still about the attack and the enemy vessel, and they would deposit the debris at starbase for further analysis by Starfleet. For now, Picard was content to put an end to the episode, and get the offending traitor off his ship. He had been down to the brig once more, and Dumonde had remained mute. Perhaps time in a penal colony would soften her up.  
  
As he sat, Troi turned away from her quiet conversation with Will.  
  
"Captain, I'd like to talk with you about crew plans for our docking time at the starbase."  
  
"Counselor, the Enterprise is in need of serious repair. I'm guessing you're lobbying for shore leave, and I'm sorry but there simply isn't an opportunity." He was brusque and quite firm on the point. He was significantly less than happy about the outcome of their mission, and felt the crew would be better served with more discipline, rather than less. His personal lack of it had served to compromise security, and the well-being of the entire ship.  
  
Troi could sense the captain's resolve, but was similarly set in her opinion. "Sir, I'm not asking for extended leave. But," at this she paused. It would be a sensitive issue for Picard, and she softened her tone, laying a hand on his forearm. "With such a large number of casualties, the crew is struggling to maintain morale. There isn't anyone who didn't lose a friend. It would be unhealthy to deny the crew time to deal with that." Her dark eyes were kind, but she was firm.  
  
Picard sighed, stood, and turned to the counselor. "I'll take it under advisement. Number One, I'll be in my ready room." Crisply he turned and walked off the bridge.  
  
Troi addressed no one in particular. "Overall, that went fairly well."  
  
Hours later, a text-only ship wide announcement was circulated from the captain. "Upon reaching Starbase 202, crew of the Enterprise will be granted three days of shore leave, and will report immediately to stations at conclusion, ready for active duty."  
  
*********  
  
"Jean-Luc, it was the right thing to do. If I could have spoken, I would have ordered you to do it myself. You're just lucky that Deanna's such a softie." By the time they'd reached starbase, Beverly's jaw had healed, and she was making up for lost time. They'd been speaking of the leave during the short ride to the inn on the planet. Finding it charming on their last visit, the senior staff had resumed residence upon their return.  
  
Picard was still angry over the entire affair on the ship, and had been withdrawn and grouchy. "Yes well, a good crew is strong and resilient. I don't see how this will inspire them to be on their toes when next we ship out."  
  
"Jean-Luc, are you made at your crew, or are you mad at yourself?" Crusher asked without a hint of compassion, accompanied by a steely gaze. Picard would not ruin their leave wallowing in self-pity. It took time to heal after loosing so many people under command, but time off was a necessary step. She'd personally gone to his ready room and essentially dragged him physically off the ship.  
  
Before he could answer, the transport arrived and they disembarked. Picard's face was stern and detached. Beverly's demeanor was indifferent. Troi was at the door to greet them, and internally rolled her eyes. These two could just about freeze over a pond when they really got going. But the day was clear, comfortably warm, and this time threatened no rain. She and Will had already planned for the senior staff to spend the afternoon at a nearby lake. If it took the whole Enterprise family, they'd loosen up the old battleaxes.  
  
She beamed at them. "How was the transport?"  
  
"Lovely." Beverly's tone dripped sarcasm, and Picard wordlessly moved beyond the two women into the main lodge.  
  
Deanna took her friend by the arm, and grabbed her bag. "Beverly, I promise you will have a great time on leave. Now, go, freshen up, get the Captain, and meet me back down here in 10 minutes. Will and Geordi are already lakeside making lunch."  
  
*********  
  
The good food, casual atmosphere, delicate wine, and sunny day did indeed beat Crusher and Picard into submission. A warm breeze occasionally skimmed across the expansive lake, and the long, green grass on the bank swayed lazily. It felt almost sinful to stay angry, so they called a truce and sat hillside on a large blanket, watching as Geordi, Worf, Troi and Riker played beach volleyball nearby. Data sat in a canvas chair at the bank, refereeing. He seemed quite taken with the accompanying whistle.  
  
Beverly turned resolutely to her companion. "Jean-Luc." It seemed to be all she could think to say.  
  
His eyes twinkled. They both wanted to apologize, and neither wanted to be the first. He figured they could skip a step. "Beverly. Let's just skip the apologies and go right to making up." He meant it innocently, but her eyebrows arched and her mouth twitched. He could almost hear her smart retort, but she held back.  
  
"Fine by me." They sat silently a bit longer.  
  
Reminding himself of his internal dialog in Beverly's quarters days previous, Picard smiled and took her hand. Her shining auburn hair was tied back loosely with a ribbon, and danced in the sun and wind. Now grasping her hand tightly, he steeled himself. "Beverly." Now he was at a loss for words.  
  
Sensing that the outcome of the moment balanced on a razor's edge, she remained silent, her expression open, and she hoped, inviting.  
  
Her name rumbled in his chest again. "Beverly, would you care to join me for dinner tonite?" It was a familiar invitation, but the way it was delivered was not. Hesitancy in his tone indicated there would be something different about the evening. The warm undercurrent of affection was again replaced by awkwardness and intensity.  
  
She did not answer immediately, but instead gazed intently at his hazel eyes. Jean-Luc held his breath, but was not at all uncertain what her answer would be. He breathed out, however, only when she at last spoke. "I would love to."  
  
*********  
  
END  
  
*********  
  
I want a girl  
  
With uninterupted prosperity  
  
Who uses a machete  
  
To cut through red tape  
  
With fingernails  
  
That shine like justice  
  
And a voice that is dark  
  
Like tinted glass  
  
She is fast and thorough  
  
And sharp as a tack  
  
She is touring the facility  
  
And picking up slack  
  
- CAKE, "Short Skit / Long Jacket" Comfort Eagle - www.cakemusic.com 


End file.
